


Searching for the Light

by Tonica



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonica/pseuds/Tonica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Boromir has a secret that is making his life even harder. One night Faramir asks him about it and Boromir is provoked into revealing his secret. Faramir is seized with a wish to help his brother, but there is nothing he can do – or is there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Searching for the Light

He should have known something was wrong the evening his father called him to his bedchamber, but he was so used to obeying all the exacting orders that he thought nothing of it. To begin with he feared he was in for some kind of punishment, the way his father's intense gaze raked him, and somehow, he hadn't been far wrong. He didn't know what to make of his father's mumbled words. Surely what he was saying was a good thing? Or -

”You look so much like her.”

Then he had felt those hard hands on his face touching it so softly he had been confused. The hands moved on and by now, it was impossible for the young man to ignore the implications of his father's confusing behavior. His face cast in stone, he resigned himself to what was going on, knowing there would be no way of refusing, not his father.

Afterwards, he was allowed to leave, to scurry around the room, searching for his clothing, then stealing out as quietly as he could to avoid the attention of the servants. On his way back to his own room, he walked into an enclosed, deserted yard with a pump and tried unsuccessfully to wash away the traces of his father's relentless touch on his skin. By the time he was back, his brother was fast asleep, as he had hoped.

Sleep eluded him for most of the night. When the sun came in through window and fell on his brother's face, he felt an icy shudder go down his back. If he was the image of his mother – then what fate awaited his younger brother, who, it was often said, was so like his older brother he might have been his twin? The thoughts rushed through his mind, then he used his willpower to calm himself. His father did not focus any attention on his younger son. The older boy was his favorite, a doubtful privilege, even before this night. Maybe the younger boy would be safe. All he could do was hope. As he well knew, there was nothing else he could do.

Over the years, Boromir learned to display an unmoved countenance to the rest of the world and especially his brother. Many was the time when he wanted to tell Faramir that he had nothing to be envious of. His father's favor was nothing to be proud of. Yet he held his tongue. How could he tell anyone, even someone as close to him as Faramir what went on behind those closed doors in the evenings?

Another man might have envied his younger brother his freedom, but Boromir, though he did wish he had enjoyed his brother's liberty to come and go as he pleased, to study and to befriend Mithrandir, tried hard not to. Boromir, as his father's chosen heir and favorite, had different duties, ones not of his own choosing, though he did enjoy swordplay and was proud to defend his city against his enemies. If only his father's strict hand hadn't gripped him so tightly. In his life there was no room for free choice, only obedience and compliance.

Boromir lived in fear that rumors of what went behind closed doors would reach Faramir's ears – or anyone's. He knew no one would dare to question his father's actions, but he – would be exposed to slander and harsh words behind his back. To some extent, he was already the target of such talk, but that was merely the result of envy of his position and perhaps his great skill with the sword. People would say what they said, and there was nothing he could do about it, and as long as his secret didn't come to light, he would bear the other talk. It was of no consequence.

Then one night, he and Faramir almost came to blows over something trivial, but as in many of their quarrels, eventually they ended up arguing about Boromir's status as his father's favorite. It had been a long day of scouting on the outer edges of Gondor's lands and after that, Boromir had been forced to sit at his father's table late into the night, participating in conversation with allies from the nearby territories, including Rohan. Now Faramir had come across a passage in a scroll and had pointed out some mistake the men of Gondor were making in their ruling, or at least so Mithrandir's words went – Boromir recognized the wizard's turn of phrase in his brother's speech.

He was tired of hearing these accusations. To some extent he was in agreement with his father about the governing of Gondor and did not think Faramir had any right to criticize, having no experience of said work. Worst of all, once again the familiar accusation was thrown into Boromir's face – you, as our father's favorite – Tonight, it felt even more bitter than most nights, because although Boromir wasn't expected back in his father's bedchamber tonight, he had spent last night there and was sure to be summoned the following night as well. It was as if his father's interest had increased over the years, not diminished.

”You envy me? Would you wish to trade places with me? Be father's favorite? Is that what you are saying, Faramir?”

”I -”

”Because if you did, you might not like it. You might not like it at all.”

Faramir, who was rarely moved to anger, calmed down and faced his brother, an inquiring look on his face.

”Boromir, I'm sorry. I realize that our father demands more of your time than -”

”Time? You have no idea. Yes, I would have liked to have more choice in what work I do. Like you. Now that we're discussing envy – I might as well tell you that you're the lucky one. Free to come and go as you please, to learn what you like and befriend anyone you like.”

”Forgive me. I shouldn't have spoken out of turn.”

”Forget it. You don't understand. You never have.”

Sensing Boromir was in a strange mood, Faramir took a closer look. There was something different about his brother tonight – something odd. Faramir would almost have called it bitterness, but surely Boromir who loved his city would not be bitter, no matter how much he might have wished for more freedom?

”Very well. I will say no more. Please forgive me. It was childish of me to quarrel like a stable hand.”

”Think nothing of it.”

Boromir's mind was already on other matters. He knew his father would summon him again tomorrow evening, when their guests would have left and the old man was once again free to demand his son's presence. At times, during sleepless nights, Boromir wondered what, if anything, Faramir sensed about those late evenings. Maybe his brother merely thought them deep in important discussions about the governing of Gondor? Hopefully, that was so. At times his father did call meetings late in the evenings, but nowhere near as frequently as Faramir might think. No, the evenings were spent eating, drinking and – reminiscing about his dead wife – in ways that Boromir was grateful Faramir could have no way of guessing at.

The two brothers fell asleep that night, reconciled after their quarrel, but their minds were taken up with very different thoughts. Faramir pondered dark hints and warnings about the future that Mithrandir had let slip and Boromir dreaded the following evening, hours ahead of him with his father undisturbed in his bedchamber, the servants dismissed and no one allowed anywhere near his rooms.

Sure enough, before evening came, the summons arrived and Boromir knew he had no choice but to obey it.

When he arrived, the table was set for two and his father pointed to the chair by his side. Boromir bowed his head in acquiescence, taking care not to show his true feelings on his face.

The evening unfolded exactly like each one since that first time and he called on his willpower to submit and not spill any of the hard words of accusation that gathered on his tongue, but had to be held back. No one questioned the Steward of Gondor. No one, not even his son. Denethor's word was law. Boromir caught himself considering the remote chance that one day a King would return and claim his rightful place as ruler of Gondor. If that day came, Boromir would be free and he would gladly swear allegiance to the King – but what was he thinking? He owed his loyalty to his father alone and nothing could change that. Freedom would never be his.

That night, as he slunk out, back to his room, the bitterness was choking him. It seemed to be him that even the humblest servant or stable boy enjoyed more freedom than the son of Denethor.

When he returned to his room, he noticed that there was a light coming from Faramir's room across the hallway. So his brother was still up? Boromir almost stopped in his tracks, trying to force himself to walk even more quietly. He cursed under his breath over his own carelessness. Tonight he didn't wish to meet his brother and be forced to stand his close scrutiny. He loved his brother but the downside of their love was the way Faramir had of reading his face. No one knew him better.

A floor board creaked and Boromir knew his wish would not be granted. Faramir was coming. He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to turn on his heel and vanish into the night, spending the remaining hours until daylight in the stable or in a bar or anywhere but here, but it was already too late.

”There you are. I discovered something tonight. A scroll -”

”It's late. I'm tired. Let us discuss your scroll at another time.”

”But – very well. What's wrong?”

The last words came softly and gently but Boromir did not want his brother's kindness, not tonight. It was intolerable to still be a captive to his father's perverted needs. He was a grown man, yet he could not refuse to come when called like a tavern wench.

”Nothing. What could be wrong? I'm tired, that's all.”

”No, that's not all. Please. I can tell something is wrong. Have you and father quarreled?”

”Quarreled? You have no idea. Don't ask about what you can not understand.”

”Then explain to me. Why don't you want to tell me what's going on? I have seen these moods for – years and at first I thought you would tell me once I was old enough. Now, I see that you will not. What is it that you are hiding?”

”Leave me alone. I want no part of your questions. If you knew – you would not be asking.”

”Then you are hiding something.”

Faramir took a few steps closer and put his hand on Boromir's face.

”Please. Don't let there be any secrets betweeen us. I'm your brother and – I hope – much more to you.”

”You don't know what you're asking. Go back to your room, to your scroll. Be grateful that is your lot in life.”

Once again, Faramir touched Boromir, this time his hand.

”No. I want to know. If I knew, maybe I could help you.”

Boromir laughed. It was a harsh, bitter sound.

”Help? You can't help me. No one can. Faramir, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but there is nothing to be done. His will is beyond anyone's power to change.”

”So it is something father has done? What?”

”Don't keep asking me that. Even if I could tell you, you wouldn't want to know.”

”Yes, I would. Nothing to do with you and your life is without interest to me.”

Boromir's patience was wearing thin. Why could Faramir not listen to reason and back down?

”Leave me alone.”

He spat the words out, even surprising himself at the venom directed at his brother who only had his best interests at heart. This was badly handled. He should be able to deal with Faramir in a much more sensible way.

”No. I can't do that.”

This time, Faramir closed the distance between them and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. Even though Faramir was of a slighter build, he was the same height as his brother and his eyes looked straight into Boromir's. Boromir's reaction was instant and violent. He flung his brother away. Faramir hit the wall behind him, and though his eyes did not fill with fear, he did look surprised. Surprised – and – was it Boromir's imagination or did Faramir look hurt too? The anger left Boromir as soon as it had come and he held out a hand to Faramir.

”I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -”

”No, it's fine. I – provoked you, but I have to insist. You will tell me, sooner or later.”

That was one aspect of Faramir's seemingly gentler manners. He was stubborn. If he set his mind to something, there was never any way of dissuading him. Boromir sighed. Even if telling Faramir was out of the question, it seemed not telling him was equally out of the question. Very well. If his brother insisted, he would learn something not to his taste. Over the years, Faramir had been let off easy. Maybe it was only fair that he shared this vile secret that had soured Boromir's life for nearly seven years.

”Very well. Since you insist. Let's see what you make of this family secret, little brother. Will you enjoy it as much as I have over the years?”

Boromir turned and walked into his own room, not waiting to see if Faramir was coming, because he knew he would. It seemed this night would never end.

Once inside, Boromir poured himself some wine. It never helped much, but at least it was something. He didn't offer his brother any. If he wanted wine, he could get his own.

”When I was a few years younger than you are now – my father summoned me to his room. It was later than usual for such a summons and when I arrived, there was no one else there. No servants, no advisers. Just the two of us. The table was set for two, but we rarely dined alone before then. In fact, I rarely dined with him then, any more than you did, if you remember. I feared I had committed some error and would be punished, but he just offered me wine and told me to sit down. We dined in silence, but – all the while I felt his gaze upon me. I didn't know what to make of all that attention. Up until then my sword fighting had been the extent of his interest.”

Faramir's gaze followed Boromir as he walked around his room, sitting down, gulping down some wine, then getting up again, wearing a path in the wooden floor. He didn't know what to make of Boromir's tone. It was brittle and sounded unlike anything Faramir had previously heard.

”Then he stood up and I stood up as well, thinking I would be dismissed, but I was wrong. He walked closer and touched my face, saying how much I looked like her. I know now that he meant our mother. Then – he kept touching me, not just my face. Do you see what I mean, little brother? And in the end, he – took me to his bed. There. Now you know as much as I do – or close enough. I hope you will enjoy our family secret as much I have.”

Faramir blinked in confusion. He looked almost as if Boromir had slapped him and despite his bitterness, Boromir began to regret his harsh words. This wasn't Faramir's fault and he had hoped to protect him from the knowledge.

”I don't understand. How could he – you are his son. And -”

”You don't have to tell me that. Believe me, it was perfectly clear to me even from that first night.”

”It's wrong. He can't -”

Boromir's face was twisted in anger, then noticing Faramir's misery, he felt the anger seep out of him. He had hurt Faramir and that was the last thing he wanted.

”Unfortunately, little brother, he can. Who is going to stop him? You? Please. Don't think to go and offer yourself in my place because I will not let you.”

Faramir looked up, seemingly astonished at the suggestion.

”I know he wouldn't accept the offer anyway. He doesn't love me.”

”Consider yourself lucky that is so.”

”I – see. Boromir, I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do, but as you say – there is nothing – unless -”

”What?”

The word came out more harshly than Boromir had intended.

”Unless Mithrandir -”

”No. You will not tell him. Not anyone. I shouldn't have let myself be provoked into telling you and no one else must know. Surely you see that?”

”No. Yes. Very well, I will not tell anyone. I'm sorry. I just thought – Mithrandir knows many things. He might be able to think of an excuse to send you away or -”

”Our father would not listen to Mithrandir, you know that. Only you pay any attention to that old man.”

”He's not a man, he's a wizard -”

”You know what I mean. No, Faramir, you must forget what I told you and never mention it again. Are we clear about that? It must be as if this conversation never took place.”

Faramir took a moment to consider, then nodded his agreement.

”I swear. No one will know and I will never mention this again.”

”Thank you.”

Boromir buried his face in his hands. If only he had had enough presence of mind not to let himself be provoked. His situation would have been easier to bear if only Faramir as well as everyone else could have been kept in the dark. If he was the only one to carry the burden of his secret still. There was the sound of soft footsteps and for a second, he thought Faramir was finally going to return to his room and leave him alone, then he felt hands on his shoulders and let his own hands fall to his knees and looked up. Faramir was looking at him with an odd expression in his eyes. To his astonishment, his brother now proceeded to kneel down before him. Faramir put a hand to Boromir's cheek and spoke softly into his ear.

”I'm so sorry, Boromir. I wish – you know what I wish. I love you so much I -”

”It's alright. I know. I love you too.”

Despite the circumstances, Boromir was touched by his brother's solemn declaration of love. He felt the same way. Or – Suddenly, he realized that Faramir had quite another intention and though superficially this moment bore a resemblance to that first evening in his father's room, this was the opposite of what his father had done.

They were on their feet, and Faramir – Faramir was kissing him, not like a little brother, but like a lover and – Boromir – returned the kiss. This was nothing like the abuse he faced in his father's room at night. It was – a pure expression of their love for each other and Boromir would do nothing to turn his brother away. This wasn't his first time with a man, even if you didn't count his father – since Boromir wasn't free to ask for any lady of Gondor in marriage, or indeed anyone – though his eyes had often strayed in the direction of Rohan's warrior maidens – he had been forced to seek oblivion in the arms of his brothers in arms. Never had he thought to find the same comfort in his own brother's arms. Not until tonight.

They retreated to his bed and spent the night together. For the first time, Boromir enjoyed such an embrace without shame or worry that talk would spread and that he would be disgraced. No one would know about this and unlike that other secret, this one did not fill him with resentment. All he felt was love.

In some small way, Faramir's offer had helped, after all. It made – what he had to endure in his father's room less painful. Somehow, Faramir's touch almost obliterated his father's and left solace in its wake. He had not thought that he could love Faramir more than he already did, but somehow this had at least served to intensify the same love and it gave him the strength to bear his father's abuse without complaining. For the first time in many years, Boromir had found a trace of light in his darkness and from then on, he knew he could carry on with his duties. Maybe one day the King would really return and then – he and Faramir both would be free to make their own way in life.

FIN

© Tonica

**Author's Note:**

> There are two more LOTR fics on my fan fiction site so far. http://umrion.net/archives/


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